Knives and Pens
by ValarieaDROP32
Summary: What happened with Eli after Julia's death, before he transfered to Degrassi. What exactly did Eli go through and how much did he suffer? His road to normal and how he discovered one of his great loves; writing.Based off Knives and Pens- Black Veil brides
1. Chapter 1

**Authors notes:** Okay so I've had this story in my head for ages so I desided to put it up here and see what people think and well if you like it let me know and I type up the rest, it'll be probably about 8-10 chapters.

**BASICLLY this story is about Eli Goldsworthy and is based off the song Knives & Pens by Black Veil Brides it's about the choice you have which will make much more sense once more chapters are up if you don't know the meaning behind the song. This all takes place after Julia's death and before he switches schools. So it's about his path to becoming more interested in writing - also will make more sense eventually. This is just how I imagined it all happening. **The lyrics to the song will occasionaly come up because they fit with what's going on. (:

Enjoy! :P **P.S. the next chapters will be longer this is just an introrudction to the story!**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Degrassi/knives and pens/black veil brides in anyway just fans of both. Though this story idea is **100%** mine.

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><p>~Knives &amp; Pens~<p>

{1}

'_I can't go on without your love'_

She's dead, Julia was dead, and she was never going to be coming back…ever. This truth, this fact, took me a while to realize as so, but when it did register, it hit hard. Not hard as in reference to an Algebra equation you just can't quite figure out, but hard as in quitting an overly addictive drug; cold-turkey. Not a particular form of emotion that I was accustomed to in my everyday life. One thing I was quickly learning though was how tiresome it could be.

Along with me now registering Julia's death in my conscious mind came another awful feeling; one that made it feel like I couldn't go on. Not without her, and especially not without her love. I never knew how much I cherished it - not until I lost it - or how ever-present it had been for me; I never craved it more, or anything in my life this _much_ for that matter. And now I couldn't have it. All I wanted was to wrap my arms tightly around her and think that everything would be alright; and I couldn't. I, Elijah Goldsworthy, for once in my life was speechless. I didn't know what to do, or what direction I should be going in, and with that which would be the best path for me take. How I would make it through this, I did not know.

'_Lay your heart down the ends in sight, _

_Conscience begs for you to do whats right.'_

Life was like a mysterious, black bag that you had to reach your hand into and draw your fate. You could get something - decide something - you had pledged you would never, under _any_ circumstances, do. Only to wind up finding yourself actually doing it. For me this was cutting, and cutting deep.

Maybe someone else was drawing your fate; reaching their own hand inside the bag; your bag.

Dropping flat on my stomach to the dusty floor that surrounded my bed, I lifted up the sheets to expose a cluttered mess of clothes, old school papers, and junk. Though none of that was what I was looking for…I definitely wasn't going to clean it either. Jutting my arm out into the darkness I felt around for a small box. Hitting the bone of my wrist on a sharp corner, I moved my hand on a hunch. A smile spread across my lips as I placed my hand on top of the item and slid it out into the light. My smile grew bigger; sitting on the floor in front of me was a small shoebox full to the brim with old things - family mementos, photos, letters, souvenirs and such - my grandmother had given me, "Vintage" according to Julia. I was looking for a small heart-shaped silver locket with the initials M.G. engraved into the back - that belonged to my great-grandmother. Under that was "Forever you have my heart and my love. -Bo" in a twisting kind of cursive. According to her it was a nickname and nothing more. That was all I was ever able to get out of my great-grandmother on the subject.

Finding it on top I sat it aside on the floor next to the box. I continued my hunt through the shoebox for more family relics for my assignment at school. That's when I found it. Under a broken picture frame and a few old scraps of paper was a 1950's style army switch blade. It had been my grandfathers when he was in the war. Just something grandma had thrown into the box at the time, to me just a family item and nothing more. Until now.

Pulling it out of the box, and gripping it tightly between the palms of my hands I stared at it. At this point I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with it now that I had it. Slipping the knife into my pocket I decided to keep it until I was sure of what I wanted out of it.

{Later that day}

I finally knew what I wanted to use the knife for, what I wanted from it, and I wasn't proud of it. This…idea, of mine was just for the pain; not to kill. I had decided to cut. All I wanted was for this pain to go away, my pain over Julia. I just wanted this to work for me, because nothing else had for me so far. Hesitantly, I walked through the archway into my bathroom shutting the door behind me; I locked it.

I wasn't quite sure what I was doing; I swore I'd never do this. I promised Jules that I wouldn't…that I wouldn't _ever_ do this; but she was dead now and she was the reason I was doing this. Well sort of, the pain her _death_ had caused me was the main reason. All I really wanted - short of getting Julia back - was to get rid of the agonizing pain that felt like it was crippling me. If that meant substituting it with another form of pain, then so be it. Right now I would do _anything _to make it just go away.

Pulling the knife from my pocket I flipped it open; looking at the blade. Turning it over in my right hand back and forth as I watched the light bounce off of it. I was slightly entertained just by this in itself; breathing in deep I held the air in my lungs, while lifting the blade to my arm about three inches below my wrist. Touching it down on my skin a small chill ran down my spine - part from the ice cold temperature of the metal and part from the fact that I was actually doing this. Slowly I put pressure on the blade feeling the slightest of ripping in my skin. Then an oozing sensation as a deep red line of blood, my blood quickly appeared where the knife had just been.

I watched as the amount of blood multiplied and eventually slid off my arm pooling on the slick white counter top. I smiled; satisfied it was exactly what I need to get me through. I didn't know if I would do it again though I was betting my money on a yes. Not for a while though at least, I hoped this would hold me over for a bit.

Opening the cabinet under the sink I grabbed a black hand towel. Getting it wet, I began to wipe up the blood around the sink before it could start to dry. Then I moved the cloth to my wrist and gently rubbed the dried blood away; erasing the evidence. Retreating back under the sink I grabbed the bottle of peroxide, gauze, and the roll of medical tape. It seemed silly to me when I stopped and thought about what I was doing. Here I was, someone who just inflicted self harm on themselves by cutting and I was taking care of it and bandaging it up like it was only an accident. It wasn't though, and this picture in my head was almost laughable but I kept quiet. I lifted my arm up over the white sink as I started to pour the disinfectant directly into the cut. I almost dropped the bottle; I bite my tongue to hold in the shout that wanted to escape my throat at the sudden intensity of pain that the chemical peroxide had caused under my skin and in my veins. It was even worse then the cut itself, that only made me suck in a deep gulp or air and then it was mostly over. The only remains were feelings of a natural high, but this stinging pain from the peroxide lingered much longer then expected. I gripped onto the counter as the pain slowly subsided.

Bandaging the self-inflicted wound I put on a Dead Hand wrist band which covered the bandages perfectly bringing a small smile to my face. I picked up a plain long-sleeve black shirt for good measure. There was no chance in hell I wanted CeCe or Bullfrog catching anything. That wasn't a risk I would ever be willing to take. Pulling it over my head I nearly screamed in shock at the site that had formed in front of me.

"Julia?" I questioned, taking a step towards my dead lover who was now standing in my bathroom looking extremely pissed off at me. "But your dead?"

'_Alone at last, we can sit and fight.'_

She backed away from me, her back now pressed against the wall. "Eli! Dammit you promised me you wouldn't!" She screamed at the top of lungs making me grab my ears. Julia stepped towards me but then shook her head moving back to her spot against the wall with a sigh.

"What else am I supposed to do Julia? Huh Julia got any smart remarks for that? No, you don't? I didn't think so. I did this, because you're dead Julia!" I held up my arm in a display of emotion. "What do you expect? What else am I supposed to do?" I whispered; tears springing from my eyes.

'_One final fight for this tonight._'

My Julia, my sweet, sweet loving Julia didn't hesitate coming towards me this time and pulled me to her in a tight embrace. She held me tight to her as we both collapsed to the floor together in a heap of emotions. I was embarrassed; I always was embarrassed if she caught me upset. I was ashamed and embarrassed, whether she was really here of not, that I was such a mess. (It was difficult to tell because I was felling extremely light headed right now. All the blood loss and crying was starting to get to me; and definitely not in my favor or helping me in anyway.) I never in my life wanted Julia to see me at such a low…but here we were.

"Eli…I'm sorry I got so mad at you it was silly and over nothing. I think I was just so used to people abandoning me when things turned icy that I tried pushing you away from me before you had the chance to yourself." she whispered softly in my ear as she stroked my black hair absentmindedly. "And look where that got me, eh lover?" Julia joked trying to lighten the mood.

'_We tried our best,_'

"I love you Julia…and…I miss you so much." my voice cracked near the end, I leaned my head against her chest with a long sigh.

"I love you too Eli. Look at me babe," she turned her body so she was facing me and tipped my face up so we looking at each other. "I don't enjoy seeing you like this - never have and never will - I'm sorry life is turning out to be so shitty but I'm begging you to stop now while your ahead. I don't want to greet you up there," - she lifted her eyebrows - "until you're as old as dust."

I wasn't crying anymore but the tears were just below the surface waiting to be triggered. "So it is real then?" added as an after thought to be clearer I said, "Heaven, that is?"

She almost laughed until the situation at hand was reminded to her when she looked at me, "Yes, of course it is." Jules stated simply.

"How am I supposed to cope?" I asked her my voice shaky. I collapsed against her suddenly exhausted. _How long would she be here with me if this was all real?_ I thought to myself while shutting my eyes. I was so tired…

My question was answered immediately, while Jules avoided my question she leaned in holding my face between her warm hands. "Just remember Eli, I love you. Always have, always will." Julia pulled my face towards hers, her soft lips melting into mine. Even with my eyes shut everything felt like a lovesick blur. Slowly she pulled away both of us breathing heavy. She kissed me softly on the lips one last time before whispering another "I love you" in my ear.

'_But stay right here,'_

I closed my eyes once again holding the image of her beauty in my minds eye for as long as I could; before it slowly faded away just like she had. Slowly I moved my lips, whispering to no one now, "I love you too."

Just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone_._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry I know I know its been a long time but what can i say? its almost summer so i've already started chapter 3 and that might be out in a few weeks 1 or 2 i promise then i'll have finals and then its summer and i can spend all my time writting fanfiction :3**

_**If anyone is reading**_**Holding Back the Truth _thats mine as well and i'll be working on that too._**

So basicly here is chapter 2 of Knives and Pen's based off the song from the great band Black Veil Brides i don't own degrassi in anyway or BVB. _I only own this idea and some fan merch(:_

so here we go:

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><p>~Knives &amp; Pens~<p>

{2}

"Come on emo boy, get the fuck up!" tall, mean, and strong Gerard my schools biggest bully - my "favorite" tormentor - shoved me to the ground expecting me to bounce back up like one of those blow-up boxing clowns. "Or is the shame of you killing your girlfriend finally getting to you?" his foot connected with my ribs as all the air in my body was forced out through my mouth. His cronies (or meatheads as the rest of the school liked to refer to them as) burst into laughter. Gerard kneeled down next to me; throwing his hand up in the air causing the idiots laughter to stop instantly. His breath was hot and rank in my face as he tisked, "The guilt, has a way of destroying you; eating you alive. Doesn't it?" The meatheads started to chuckle but one jerk of Gerard's hand and their mouths clamped shut tight once again.

I grabbed the collar of Gerard's blue cotton shirt pulling him closer. The mixed look of fear and confusion on his grimy face was priceless; fuel for my fire. In a voice I did not recognize as my own, I spat, "Don't you ever talk about Julia again you piece of shit."

"And what are you gonna do about it emo boy if I do?" his goal was to come off tough, fearless, but he missed his mark. His voice had failed him, and given away his true feelings; it had cracked at the end. Just one look into Gerard's eyes and you could see all the fear that they held.

Hell, who wouldn't be even a little nervous around a crazy supposed killer, a Goth guy who murdered his girlfriend; a supposed psychopath. I knew what the truth was that Julia rode off on her bike from the park, and got hit by some idiot in a truck who didn't even try to stop - according to all the witnesses - but did I kill her? Was it my intent to drive her to a possible suicide? No, no chance in haven or hell I did. I _loved_ her, and sometimes she could really get on my nerves but I never once wished her dead.

She was the only one who kept me semi-calm and sane. It would be _insane_ that I would kill the one person who for the most part was keeping _me_ alive.

Gerard, his buddies, and all the people in this school didn't know shit. Plain and simple.

"Or there'll be more of this coming your pathetic way." Gerard's lips parted probably to give me some "clever" smart ass remark but before his tongue even had a chance to form the words I pulled back my right arm as far as possible; my muscles stretched tight like a rubber band tied to a sling shot. Letting go my first connected with his jar going upward and hitting one side of his nose and his right eye all in one swing. Just as quick as it happened it was over in just a matter of seconds.

Releasing my grip on his collar before he could react I snatched up my messenger bag flinging it around my neck and nit waiting for it ti settle i made a dead sprint to Morty who was parked outside the school gates just a few feet away. Slipping into the front seat and checking to see that all possible entrances were locked; I sifted gears and drove away from the school.

Looking in my review mirror, I saw all three of them flipping me off as his friends tried to left up their leader from the ground.

I wasn't scared of being caught for fighting on school grounds for the record - there wasn't a chance in hell Gerard or anyone in this school would tell on me. Who wanted to wear the badge of getting beat up by a "little defenseless emo-teen"? Definitely not Gerard that was for sure.

"_And I've lost all faith in this blurring light." _

I wasn't scarred or a coward but three against one, no matter how strong the one or how dumb the group of three may be, it wasn't a risk I was willing to take. Two could hold me down and one would beat me, they would even take turns doing it. I knew because they had done it to me before. Some things were better left unfinished.

I slowly came to a stop in my hearse in front of the cemetery.

Where my Julia was buried.

I don't know what brought me here, it wasn't my intension to come here - I had planned on going straight home, no detours - but here I was, and I guess fate had had other plans for me. It made sense though; I mean _whenever_ I was having a bad day I would go straight to her. Always, no exceptions. I guess deep down - even if I wouldn't admit it to myself - I needed her, I just needed to be in the presences of someone who cared and who understood. Whether they be dead or alive.

"_Lay your heart down"_

Walking up the crumbling brick steps to the black wrought iron gates where my lover laid just behind in an eternal dreamless sleep. I smiled softly as her headstone came into sight. A one-foot long and two feet high gray marble stone with her full name, date of birth…and death was engraved in thick block lettering. Her favorite quote was in an italic, circular cursive that read: _"The world isn't beautiful; therefore, it is." _

It was as if my heart lifted back to and above the place where it was supposed to be residing just seeing the stone. There was a layer of sadness though, when I remembered why she was here. These past few weeks had brought me to a string of new lows. My heart had been slowly sinking into my gut throughout the whole entire time since Julia's death - her murder - was brought out into the light. It felt good, right to finally have it back in the right spot where it belonged. At last, things were semi-right in my mixed up world.

"Hey Jules," my voice seemed to come from some place else, some place far away, another time…a time when I was happy and surrounded in a ray of love. Coming directly from the once-living Julia, who now presently lay hopefully at peace six feet below me. (At least I assume a once peaceful Julia, well as peaceful as an unsolved hit-and-run murder victim could ever be. That was until her idiot boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - fucked things up and broke a promise to her and started cutting.) "I haven't been here since the funeral; damn that was a while ago I guess wasn't it? Well, with the speed time seems to travel at you could say its been longer than that. It feels like centuries to me sometimes." I clutched my cell phone tightly in my left hand as sudden feelings of nausea and nervousness filled my gut when I thought back to last night. My first cut, Julia's angry appearance, and I wondered if it was real or just a child from my crazy messed up head. The tombstones started to swirl around me all becoming one solid gray color only Julia's grave stayed still, the only one I could see clearly, my light in all this darkness.

Shaking my head I slowly got down on my knee's in front of the headstone waiting for the dizziness to pass. "Julia, I'm not sure what started my spiral down. I mean yes I do, _your death_, but people die all the time everyday and you do not see all _their_ loved ones going off slitting their wrists or jumping off of bridges. People just don't "off themselves" every time somebody dies…if people did that then we would all be dead by now. Therefore, I guess I am sorry about last night, whatever that was. I miss you though…I really miss you a lot Jules." I got to my feet at a loss for words some how. "Damn, Jules, I swear whenever I'm around you or even _think_ of you I'm at a serious loss for words. I forget all the clever things I want to say, even how to think sometimes…even from the grave you still seem to find a way to affect me, make my words all go to mush. It's all you."

Sighing I rested one hand on the marble stone whispering an 'I love you' and an 'I'll be back later, soon' before turning my back on the plot and leaving the cemetery; this time intent on getting home.

{Three Weeks Later}

I don't know what did it this time, what set me off the edge but whatever it was must have been the straw that broke my camels back because here I was again. Same knife, same room, same locked door, same arm …same intent. A single fading cut a light pink color now - you wouldn't notice it unless you were looking for it - was the only mark on my pale wrist. A sad, sad, reminder of what had happened right here in this very room, _in this very spot_, only three weeks ago in this bathroom, my bathroom. A chill ran down my spine making me shake - maybe it was from the still-fresh memory or maybe it was my Julia telling me once again what she thought about cutting and me.

This time I felt much more prepared for what was going to happen, it still made me laugh in a pathetic kind or way when I thought about me hurting myself on purpose then cleaning up the mess like it was an accident. Along with that, I was much more prepared myself for what was going to happen - what might happen - and how to cover it all up, like it was, well, nothing.

Everything I needed was sitting out in front of me on the counter in order of destruction.

Knife? Check. Black towel? Check. Hydrogen peroxide? Check. Cotton ball? Check - To use with teh peroxide of course. I was not going to be stupid this time and alert my parents or the neighbors about what was going on in this house, or make them think that I was in trouble. It would only lead to more problems. Oh, and the pain from before was unbearable. Sure, it helped me in a way I guess but I didn't need people wondering what was going with me anymore then they already were. Neosporin? Check. Bandage wrap? Check. Wristband to hide it all? Yeah, check. One of my many long-sleeve shirts? Check. I was ready as anyone in this kind of situation could ever dream to be.

I checked the door jiggling the handle to be a hundred percent sure it was locked. No sense in it really. My parents weren't home, I didn't have to worry about them walking on me or hearing me scream - if I did - from the sheer intense pain the peroxide caused under my skin. I didn't _need_ to take this kind or precaution or to be so cautious. I guess somewhere deep down or subconsciously I was still worried that somehow, someway they would walk in on me. And if they did? There's no doubt that I wouldn't be able to handle the looks on their faces let alone the ones that they would be giving me.

"_Alone at last,"_

_Come on Eli, stop wasting time. They could b back any minute and how would you explain this? Hmmm? How could you explain to a parent that their child was cutting?_ I thought to myself trying to talk myself back into it, I was already here might as well do it. _No point in backing out now either. You're all in it now, both feet, one hundred percent._

"_I've lost all faith"_

I placed the old, yet still somehow sharp blade against my mostly clean wrist, no hesitation anymore; not this time, just action. One, two, three…and then it was over.

"_Storming through this,"_

Three cuts. Not one but three. Not really my plan, but I didn't have time to focus on that right now.

Acting quickly I went through the motions I found laughable. Like, grabbing the bottle of peroxide and the cotton balls. I began to pour the liquid onto one of them until it became damp and cold between my thumb and first two fingers. Setting the bottle down I grabbed the black towel, that could hide any sign of blood, and in one swipe wiped away all the running blood allowing my wrists to be clean for a few seconds. Long enough to press the cotton ball to all three cuts at once. Luckily, they were all fairly close together; if anyone asked I could simple say a cousin, or a friend's cat had starched me. No big deal…right?

Sucking in a big gulp of air when the peroxide started to do its magic, I counted to ten then took the cotton ball off my arm and tossed it on the wastebasket thankful for the fact I didn't feel the need to burst out screaming or grab hold of anything. Before anything could start bleeding again, I snatched the Neosporin that was in front of me, and unscrewing the cap with my mouth, I squeezed out a decent amount on the cuts leaving the tube forgotten on the counter as I rubbed the ointment in in a circular pattern.

I was almost done, all I needed to do now was put a bandage on it incase it decided to bleed more, slip on my Dead Hand sweat band and throw on my long-sleeve brown shirt for extra measure and I would be good to go.

"_Turn out the light"_

When I was done with all of that, I put everything away, very casually, I might add, and left the room turning out the light on my way out.

Setting down on the bed it gave me a second to think, and once I started, I was having trouble stopping. _One, two, three and just like that it was done Eli. You cut yourself three times and we all know that wasn't the plan. One cut, only when you needed it the most. Not whenever or as many as you wanted! If you followed that "rule" you would be covered in cuts by now, or you would be dead. You gave yourself these rules to protect yourself, your sanity and the people around you from finding out. And what do you go and do? Cut three damn freaking times! Only one cut Eli! One cut! Come on how could you be so stupid and go and cut three times! How stupid can you get!_

With both hand I grabbed hold of my hair and pulled hard rocking back and forth on the edge of my bed. I messed up, I messed it all up by cutting three times. I was going to wait; I was supposed to wait until the time when I needed to feel the pain and the blood drip down the most. And yeah sure I don't know what had really made me want to- no _need_ to cut so bad all of a sudden but I knew it was legit and I needed to.

One cut? What damage could that do? But three, that was more than enough! It was like one cut for each week of torcher I had been through. All my waiting and the agonizing almost cripling pain that I had held out on for so long just to go back and erase all the work that I thought was progress. And, it was in a way. Not a great thing to be proud of but for the situation it was progress.

Waiting out for as long as I could until I couldn't take it anymore to cut. That was progress to me.

Three weeks of hell, three weeks, that was almost a month; some people would even go as far to say it was. But, what do I do? Of course stupid me I go and ruin it. I ruined Julia, I was the reason she died and fuck, I couldn't even cut right. How pathetic was that?

Here I was yet again in the _exact_ same situation as I was not a month ago. Three weeks ago, just three weeks ago all my so-called "progress" was gone. I was right back at the beginning of this fucking mess.

_Three weeks, three cuts. _The words kept spinning through my head along with things like _failure, _and _idiot._ No, not the best thing to be thinking right now but I could not stop it, could not help my self by stopping. _Hell I couldn't even cut right, damn it! _

I hadn't gotten anywhere! I was only going to cut once, but no something inside of me drove me to it, it seemed like and to do it three times instead. I know I needed to stop thinking these things but once I started I couldn't stop, just like the cutting earlier and this time, I swear, _I swear,_ I tried but no good came of it. If anything, it only made the thoughts come faster, quicker, until I was pulling on my hair so hard my head hurt.

Trying to catch my breath, I let my grip on my hair loosen and allowed my hands to fall limp to my sides. The thoughts were starting to slow down now, but still it didn't feel like it was quick enough.

_I had waited through three weeks of agony and torture, for what? To cut and trash all the progress I thought I was making. Three weeks of waiting in pure agony and torture to the moment when I thought I would truly die just to breath was pain to me. When I needed it the most! _My chest started to ache as my thoughts started to speed up again. _One cut should have been enough for me! Should have been it to get me through until the next one - which should have been a mile down the road - but no my body just _had_ to make three small close cuts instead of one long one. Sure, they added up, but one cut was easier to explain away than three would ever be. _

It made me feel pathetic. To Julia I probably already was for just cutting in the first place, and for not being strong enough.

Strong enough to only cut once at a time, or strong enough to handle her death like everyone else, strong enough to be a man and not give in to my wants and my instincts that said I _needed_ to do this when I didn't. Now, that I already had given in once almost a month ago, it was too late to tell myself to stop because I had already started so how could I tell myself no now?

Rubbing my eyes I forced my self to relax and lay underneath the covers like everything was normal and I was fine, even though it was obvious, I wasn't. These thoughts would stop…they had too.

It took far to long for me to fall asleep and even when I did it was dreamless and all black nothing to get my mind off of things, and away from my current situation. The words "four cuts" was the only thing going through my head before I was able to fall asleep nothing else but it was enough. Enough to make me still for alone, and desperate, and pathetic all in one swing.

_Four cuts. Four cuts. _It flowed through my head on an endless loop until sleep finally felt like I had had enough and took me. I tried to stop, I really did but it wasn't enough after that first one I had to do it again and this time I felt like I had to do three instead. Four cuts, I had cut four times now and there was no going back no changing what I had done.

"_We tried"_


End file.
